


Happy Birthday, Mr. President

by RedLights



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Power Dynamics, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9204983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLights/pseuds/RedLights
Summary: Olivia gives Fitz a surprise for his birthday.





	

Olivia was waiting in the Residence in nothing but a black lace set and a pair of high heels. Fitz was at a birthday dinner, and Mellie was flying out California tonight for the next few days. He'd be home any minute. She thought briefly of Marilyn Monroe's birthday serenade to her president, and though with a wry smile that her gift was far better. Not that she was full of herself.

She leaned against the bed and took a deep breath. The anticipation was having a physical effect on her.

  
Fitz opened the door a minute later and stopped in his tracks. “Happy birthday, Mr. President,” Olivia said in a low voice, almost a whisper. She stood fully and walked over to him, slowly. He eyed her body appreciatively and inhaled sharply. She smoothed her hands over his chest and leaned in to whisper: “Come unwrap your present.”

  
He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her hungrily, backing her towards the bed. When she felt the bed at the backs of her legs she pulled back to look at him.

  
“How do you want to use me, Mr. President?” She asked innocently. She knew he understood her - his eyes darkened immediately and his expression became hungrier, almost predatory. She should have been ashamed at how much that turned her on.

  
He stared at her, judging how serious she was. She didn't usually let him have that much control. Apparently, he came to a conclusion he liked. “Take my clothes off.” His voice was deep, authoritative, powerful, the tone he used as Commander-in-Chief. It sent a shiver through her as she reached for the buttons of his shirt. She let her fingernails graze his nipples, his chest, and his stomach as she unbuttoned it, and then knelt in front of him.

She looked into his eyes, her own eyes doe-like and innocent, conveying her submission, as she unbuckled his belt and put it aside. She didn't move her gaze as she unbuttoned his pants, her palm purposefully grazing his crotch as she did so, and pulled down the zipper slowly. She pulled the pants down and he stepped out of them, then she bent to untie his shoes. He stepped out of those, too, and she looked up at him.

  
“Stand up,” he ordered. She did. “Lay back on the bed.” She did, leaning back on her elbows, and felt his eyes rake over her, drinking her in.

  
“Tell me what you want from me, Mr. President,” Olivia said.

  
“On your hands and knees,” the President replied, and Liv obeyed. He ran his hands down her back, across the curve of her ass, and over her lace-covered pussy, and Liv closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. He rubbed two fingers over her clit and she stifled a moan before remembering it didn't matter if anyone heard her. When he removed his hand a moment later she looked back over her shoulder to see what he could possibly be doing instead, and glimpsed him pulling down his boxers before he pushed her head back. He then tugged at her panties, and she lifted her legs one by one so he could remove them. 

  
A moment later she felt his thick, hard length against her, sliding back and forth between her slick folds. She rolled her hips, rubbing his cock against her. Olivia wasn't conscious of it, but the Secret Service could hear her down the hall (not that they'd ever tell anyone that). Fitz lingered with his tip at her entrance and teased her, slipping in until his head was barely inside before pulling out. Olivia whimpered, but he did it again, and again, until she wanted to flip over and take him inside her. She didn't, remembering that this was his gift, and he could have it however he wanted it. After what felt like hours of that decadent torture he pulled back, positioned himself, and slammed into her. She was hot and tight around him, her walls stretched to accommodate his thick cock. They never used a condom, so she could feel every ridge and vein inside her.

  
Her body trembled with each invasion and she felt herself losing control. “Not yet, Liv. I want this to last.”

  
“I serve at the pleasure of the President,” she responded, breathless.

  
“My pleasure, huh?” He raised his eyebrows. “On your knees, then.”


End file.
